


Crimson and Pearl

by WahlBuilder



Series: Colour Theory [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 13:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: A tale of Pearl's first meeting with Maxwell Roth.





	Crimson and Pearl

**Author's Note:**

> With a dash of Jacob/Max, of course.

The carriage doesn’t even shake when a slim figure slips inside. Pearl would have believed it to be a dream: a moment ago there was nobody opposite of her—and now, there is,—but she did see the door open and close, heard the noises of the street rush in and then die, cut off.

And now, there’s that tall figure, long legs barely fitting, in an awful crimson jacket, perfectly tailored, but with darker patches on the sides; no necktie, the waistcoat of handsome blue brocade, but the shirt creased… And the face above it all pale, grinning and with a ragged scar running down the right side. And green eyes, glistening like those of a cat’s that’s ready to pounce on its prey.

Pearl reaches into her skirts for her revolver.

The wild vision grins. ‘Don’t worry, my lady,’ the vision says in the most cheerful tone. ‘I’m not here to molest you.’

Pearl arches an eyebrow, closes her hand on the revolver. The carriage is rolling as though nothing is happening. It certainly feels like a dream. ‘Is this a robbery, then?’ she asks in as arch a tone as she can muster—thankful to dealings with Father’s partners that has taught her to assume that tone.

‘Not at all! ’Tis a rescue!’ The vision wipes his cheek—she notices very good and very worn dark kid gloves—and smears something…

‘It’s blood,’ Pearl states, though even she knows it’s unnecessary.

The vision looks down at his hand, as though noticing the blood for the first time, then looks up at her, green eyes like jewels. ‘Yes! It appears so, my lady.’

Pearl’s hands slips from the revolver to a handkerchief, and she leans across to wipe the blood off his cheek. Close, he looks even more pale—and definitely smells of blood. Fresh blood. She glances down at his jacket and realises that the dark patches have grown. ‘You are bleeding!’

The grin only widens. ‘Again, yes. Got a knife to the ribs.’

She leans back, bunching the handkerchief in her palm. ‘And whose rescue is this, sir?’

‘Mine.’ And he closes his eyes, passing out.

***

‘…and then I knew, this was the man after my heart,’ Pearl concludes with a small smile, directed fondly at Max.

Max chuckles, saluting her with a teacup gripped tightly in gloved fingers. ‘Admit it, you thought I would literally take your heart.’

‘I was more concerned with _yours_ stopping. Don’t make me repeat the excuses I had to make to my father to explain why my carriage and my dress were all bloody.’ She taps Max’s knee.

Max leans to her, and with a magnificent smile he purrs, ‘Kitten, you love me.’

Pearl rolls her eyes, and then leans to him, too, a hand still on his knee, and a matching smirk on her face. ‘I do, old cat.’

Jacob snorts. Their flirting can go on forever, but as Jacob settles by Max’s legs and lays his head on his lap, he decides that listening to Pearl’s stories about her friend’s adventures is one of the best ways to spend a night.

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing bad happened (to our darlings; all the bad things happened to Starrick and Co, of course).  
> Pearl and Max are peak wlw/mlm solidarity.


End file.
